The Founders Four
by JadedofMara
Summary: AU, Seventh year. When the Priori Incantatem was broken, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron were startled to discover that Voldemort was gone. In his place was Albus Dumbledore, and what's all this about the Founders? Dimension jumping.
1. Deep Magic

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

Chapter One: Deep Magic

It was the first night of term, directly after the Welcoming Feast

Magic swept through the air as though in a sandstorm.

There was a rumble that shook Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to its hidden foundations, and then silence. All throughout the castle, teachers looked up from their pastimes and just-returning students from their conversation, confused. First years, not knowing better, though nothing of it.

The Headmaster alone began to run.

Hogwarts shuddered, and then sighed.

In the central courtyard, several figures had appeared with a _crack!_ They were now standing warily together, each with their back to the others.

The most conspicuously noticeable person was a male, and stood well over six foot tall. His fire-red hair was long and half tied back, and a delicate red dusting of mustache and goatee graced his battle-hardened features. The wizard wore a griffin-skin cloak of deep crimson over scarlet robes and gold battle armor. A heavy swordbelt hung from his hip, its scabbard empty. A long golden sword, encrusted with magnificent rubies was held firmly in the wizard's left hand, on which a signet ring—of twin golden lions carrying rubies in their mouths—rested proudly. The wizard's right hand carried a long Redwood wand. At the wizard's side stood a fully grown griffin, its scarlet plumage and gold fur striking a contrast that matched perfectly with the wizard's robes. The griffin stared around the courtyard impressively, ready at any moment to attack.

To the right of the man's griffin stood a beautiful woman, her honey-colored hair swept up away from her neck to avoid the quiver of arrows secured there. Her bow was already in hand, and strung with an arrow. The witch was dressed in bronze armored robes and a deep blue Elven-weave cloak. On the fourth finger of the witch's left hand, two bronze rings intertwined with each other. The first, the one closest to the fingertip, showed a falcon, its eye a single sapphire. The falcon's wings were spread lovingly around the figure of the second ring, the head of a male lion with a ruby held tight in its mouth. Around her delicate waist was a belt of linked bronze, and on her right arm, a wandholster kept her filigreed Mahogany wand well within easy reach. Perched on the witch's shoulder was a large, white phase gyrfalcon, the bird's hard amber eyes squinting, its wings spread wide.

Standing directly behind the witch was another female, this with long auburn hair that fell to her waist. Her face was kindly, though her chestnut eyes glittered dangerously. This witch wore yellow battle robes with a black dragonhide cloak, and a black belt from which many potions and two empty sheaths hung. The contents of the sheaths—an ornately carved Ebony wand and a gold and onyx filigree dagger—were held lightly in her hands. On the witch's wedding finger was a set of two interweaving gold rings. The first, closest to the palm, was of a single coiled snake, with its tail wrapped firmly around an emerald. The second was the image of a badger which was encircled by the snake of the other ring. The badger held a black pearl in its paws. A living badger crouched at the witch's feet, teeth showing white in a snarl.

To the left of the witch, there was yet another wizard, this one shorter by far than the first. This wizard's hair was long as well, though it was black and not long enough to tie back, leaving it to fall into his hard, gleaming green eyes. His robes were a deep forest green, and covered by a goblin-wrought silver breastplate and a matching swordbelt. The sword—silver with a single large emerald set deep in the hilt—rested still in its scabbard. Over this, the wizard wore a naturally toned Basilisk-scale cloak, which shimmered between its true green and deep silver in the half moonlight of the courtyard. His signet ring—two silver snakes entwined with each other around a large, pure emerald—was easily seen on his left hand. The Basilisk-scale wandholster on the wizard's right arm was empty, its wand of pale Ash, carved all over with snakes, firmly clasped in his hand. Draped over the wizard's shoulders and all down his left arm, its body upright in the wizard's hand and fangs bared, was a long, thick snake, it's scales purest white from age, though the snake itself was still just as deadly as ever. It was poised and ready to strike.

Footsteps clattered down the hallway before the wizard dressed in red and his griffin, and the others came around to form a line with him—the two wizards and their companions in the center, and the witches with their familiars on the outside. A tall, purple-robed wizard with long white hair and blue eyes that shone from behind half-moon spectacles rounded the corner at a full run, and stopped dead at the sight of the newcomers.

The four humans exchanged looks of shock and incredulity at the appearance of this man. He was, after all, supposedly dead.

It was a while before the man found his voice.

"The Founders?" he asked disbelievingly. "No! This can't be possible!"

"I assure you," the green-swathed wizard said in a silky voice, drawing out all his '_S_'s far longer than necessary, as was his habit. "Whatever it is that 'can't be possible' is perfectly so, for this is Magic, my friend, and anything is possible to those with sufficient faith."


	2. Hogwarts Immortal

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

Chapter Two: Hogwarts Immortal

Albus Dumbledore looked absolutely flabbergasted.

_+Good_+ smirked Harry Potter telepathically to Ron. +_Now we've ensured that he'll talk to us privately. We need to find out what's happened.+_

_+You're telling me+_ said Ginny from Harry's right. +_I swear, if I'd known that we'd end up face to face with a dead person, I never would have gone into that _PrioriIncantatem_ bubble.+_

Ron sent Ginny the mental equivalent of a sarcastically sweet grin. +_If I remember correctly, sister dear, you were the one who convinced us to break their connection…+_

_+Shut up, Ron!+_

_+My god!+_ whispered Hermione. +_Could it be possible?+_

Ron huffed. +_My darling wife, you sound like Dumbledore. Could what be possible, Hermione?+_

+_Never you mind, Ronald+_ Hermione sniffed. +_Just let me do the talking_.+

The whole exchange had taken less than a second. _Ah the wonders of telepathic communication_, thought Harry to himself. Just one of the many benefits of being Salazar Slytherin reincarnated.

Now Hermione leant forward from Ron's side, stroking Raethiel, her gyrfalcon. "Dear, I believe you've upset him," she scolded laughingly. She turned to Dumbledore, a conspiratorial smile in her eyes. "Forgive my brother-in-law. He tends to be rather tactless."

"Excuse me!" interjected Harry mock self righteously, narrowing his eyes at Hermione. "You seem to be describing your husband, not your brother-in-law. Haven't I always been perfectly diplomatic? It's your husband who has the 'emotional range of a teaspoon', as you so wonderfully—"

"_Silencio!"_said Ginny, silencing her husband with a sharp jab of her wand. Harry shrugged it off, casting the counter-charm non-verbally. He glared at Ginny slightly, and retreated back behind Ron, muttering to himself all the while in parseltounge.

/Not tactless at all. Completely barmy. Honestly, no idea what's gotten into Hermione. It's all bloody brainless if you ask me. Really, me—Harry Potter—tactless? What is she thinking?/

Sshycien, Harry's familiar, started laughing. /Shut up, Salazar. The old man is staring./

Harry looked up. So he was.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Headmaster," said Ginny, winking. "My husband gets like that sometimes, and only Schiizyin can settle him down."

"It's 'Sshycien', not 'Schiizyin'," muttered Harry sulkily from behind Ron. "Sshycien is a noble Parsel name—it means 'he who keeps his friends forever'. Schiizyin, on the other hand, means something usually not said in polite company. I would appreciate it if you pronounced my familiar's name correctly, please."

"Sorry, love," said Ginny, secretly wondering what her mispronunciation of her husband's familiar's name had meant this time around—for some strange reason, she could never seem to get it right. "Carry on, dear," she said to Hermione

Hermione smiled back at the Headmaster, who now looked rather similar to one of the large trout that Geiror—Ron's griffin—had eaten for breakfast the morning before. "Might I suggest that we continue this conversation elsewhere? Somewhere that we can ensure privacy?"

"Of course, Lady Ravenclaw," Dumbledore said, stumbling ever so slightly over the name. "If you will all follow me up to my office, I'm sure we can arrange something…"

"Sounds lovely," said Ron, offering his arm to Hermione. As they started off, Raethiel flew down and landed on Geiror's back, who didn't notice and continued to stalk after his master.

"So," said Ginny, leaning close to Harry's ear and stroking Sshycien lightly. "What did I accidentally call your viper this time. It was 'Wooly Mammoth' last time, wasn't it?"

Harry shook his head. "That was two months ago. Last time you called him a palm tree. This time, however…"

He trailed off. Ginny's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Something not usually said in polite company?" she prompted, poking him in the ribs.

Harry grinned, and leaned down to whisper in his wife's ear.

"How 'bout them Chudley Canons?" asked Ron loudly.


	3. A Matter of Arithmancy

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

The Founders Four

Chapter Three: A Matter of Arithmancy

The walk to the Headmaster's office was a short one from the central courtyard. Indeed, one could oftentimes look up from the south-eastern corner of the yard and see the Headmaster pacing his study, of lost in thought behind his large oak desk.

On that evening, however, anyone attempting to peer into the Headmaster's private rooms would have been greeted with a very shocking sight.

Three of the four strangers who had appeared seemingly out of thin air in the courtyard were now lounged in various chairs all across the room, each toying with a lemon drop given to them by the Headmaster. Their animals were either near or with them, and the green-clothed wizard was engaged in a hissing conversation with his snake. Only the witch in blue and bronze, her gyrfalcon perched on her shoulder, stood, and this she did with hands spread wide on the Headmaster's desk, leaning over the ornately carved piece of oak in animated conversation with the aged wizard. The Headmaster himself had a large sheaf of parchment before him, much of which was covered in the tiny purple markings of his phoenix feather quill.

"I obviously haven't had time to work out the particulars," the woman was saying excitedly, watching the Headmaster as he feverishly scribbled on his parchment. "But I think that—with the combination of the simple, though strong, Darkness of the Kedavra, and the equally straightforward neutrality of Expelliarmus against the complex impartiality of Priori Incantatem and the intricate variables of the inherently Light-oriented brother Phoenix wands—my theory might actually have some weight, at least with the Arithmancical community."

"Indeed it would," said the Headmaster, frowning at the parchment beneath his hands. "Provided, of course, that you take into account the breaking of the Incantatem by three powerful forces, rather than one, factor out the common Perfect Articles, assuming there are some, and adjust the equation for partisanship." He paused for a moment, staring fixedly at the equation. "Yes!" he said finally, his blue eyes lighting up. "Do you know, I think this will work!"

The Headmaster rolled up his sheaf of parchment and turned to the magnificent Phoenix which stood on the perch beside his desk. "Take this to Professor Vector-Black, will you, Fawkes?"

The Phoenix snatched the parchment and disappeared in a flash of golden flame. The Headmaster turned back to the four friends and their familiars. The woman in blue had taken a seat, and she and the others now sat attentively across the desk from him.

"All right," said the Headmaster. "You've convinced me. It is entirely possible that you may be from another version of this planet. Now if you will please inform me why you thought it so imperative for me to hear you out on that score before explaining your situation? (Although I did quite enjoy that Arithmancy; it is by far the most interesting equation I have ever seen)"

Taking her cue from the pointed glances of her friends, the woman in blue leveled her gaze at the old man. "Headmaster," she said quietly. "You know that, according to the laws of magic discovered by Merlin and laid down in the Book, it is impossible for anything to correspond with another at the same magical harmonium. If this occurs, the two—or more—objects will cancel each other out." At the Headmaster's nod, she continued. "You assumed earlier that we are the Founders. That is only partially true. We are not from the past in any way, shape or form."

The Headmaster frowned, the ends of the woman's statement not quite matching up in his mind. The woman leant across the table and looked him straight in the eye.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said very quietly. "Do you believe in the reincarnation of souls?"


	4. And the Truth Shall Set You Free

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

Chapter Four: And the Truth Shall Set You Free

Albus Dumbledore leant back calmly in his gilded chair, surveying the four dimension-travelers. This, he decided, was all beginning to make some twisted sort of sense. If you laid out the facts, it was all quite self explanatory:

A) It is impossible to travel to the future

B) The Founders of Hogwarts have arrived

Ergo, they must be reincarnations. Taking into account 'Ravenclaw's' rather amazing bit of on-the-fly Arithmancy:

A) It is impossible for any object to maintain the same magical harmonium as another object

B) The four reincarnated Founders are from the present time in history

Ergo, their counterparts must be dead.

Things like this made such sense to the well organized mind. Such a sorry thing that so few people were in possession of them. This was going to be a highly tricky situation to sort through, once it became public knowledge.

"I see," was all Dumbledore said on the matter for the time being, although there would have to be a rather extensive talk about the handling of the circumstances at a later time. "If it is not being too forward, may I ask who you are now?"

The reincarnated Ravenclaw, apparently the brains of the group—which, Dumbledore realized belatedly, she would be—smiled slightly at the Headmaster. "Provided, of course, that you agree to tell us the manner of our respective deaths?"

Dumbledore nodded, and all, even the taciturn Slytherin, smiled in response.

"I do hope that we don't open up any old wounds by all of this," said Hufflepuff worriedly. "I don't know if I could handle intense sorrow just yet—I find myself rather exhausted at the moment. But I suppose we must carry on. I must say, however, that I would greatly appreciate it if you—all of you—would put up Occlumency barriers if you feel negative emotions coming on." At Dumbledore's frown, she smiled slightly. "I'm an Empath, you see, and traveling dimensions has put a great strain on all of us."

Dumbledore nodded graciously and set up his barriers just in case—though he couldn't help noticing the surreptitious glances that the four passed along.

Hufflepuff, no doubt sensing that he had minimum barriers in place, smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said. "And now, I suppose I should get on with it."

She took a shallow breath. "My name is Ginny Weasley."

"Disappeared six years ago, taken by the Heir of Slytherin during the opening of the Chamber of Secrets," Dumbledore answered mechanically, tightening the barriers on his whirling mind. Even prepared, that had been a blow. Ginevra Weasley had been only the fourth student ever to die within Hogwarts' walls, and the third to fall to the Monster of Slytherin. There had been talk of closing the school after Ginevra and her brother Ronald had disappeared, the only clue as to their whereabouts a message daubed on the wall in blood:

'Their skeletons shall lie in the Chamber forever.'

Hufflepuff—Miss Weasley—nodded slightly. "Fitting, I suppose," she said, looking down to where her hand was locked in Slytherin's. "That very nearly happened in our world. Caishezia must have turned on me; otherwise there wouldn't be a Hogwarts."

Ravenclaw smiled tightly. "It's 'Kaesseixya', Ginny. Right, Harry?"

Slytherin—Harry—nodded once, a very amused smile on his face.

There was a moment of pensive silence, and then Gryffindor spoke up. "What about me? I'm her brother, Ron."

Dumbledore started. This would definitely require some conversation. He wasn't about the let these visitors leave—if such a thing were possible—until the Weasley's saw their children, alternate versions and reincarnated Founders or no. "The same," said Dumbledore in a shaky voice.

Mr. Weasley grinned at his sister. "Went down together again, Gin, just like last time," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. Slytherin squirmed, though whether it was from the reference to their past lives or the fact that his own Monster—named Kaesseixya, apparently (and Dumbledore knew quite a few people who would kill to get that information)—had murdered two of his friends, Dumbledore could not tell.

"What about my wife?" asked Mr. Weasley, indicating Ravenclaw, who smiled. "Hermione Granger."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. There was a name he knew quite well. After young Hermione's death, the Muggle Studies professor had become her parent's grief counselor, and since then, Thomas and Julia Granger had become regular summer visitors of Hogwarts.

"You were killed by a troll in your first year," Dumbledore said quietly. That incident had been hard on the school as well, the troll having been let in by a Death Eater named Maximillian Quirell. The fact that a Death Eater could get close enough to physically let a Mountain Troll into Hogwarts had shocked and angered many parents, and Thomas and Julia, being Muggles, had posed quite a bit of a challenge, with their threats of going to the police with a report of the 'murder'.

Miss Granger nodded understandingly. "In our world, Harry—" she glanced at Slytherin "—convinced Ron to come and look for me. But if he was already dead, perhaps..?" She trailed off questioningly.

Dumbledore looked to Slytherin, studying him. Come to think of it, he did look rather familiar, with his high cheek bones, strong jaw and black hair. And the eyes, almond-shaped, green and determined, were familiar as well. Dumbledore was sure he'd seen both the face and the eyes before, but certainly not in the same person. Realizing he was getting nowhere, Dumbledore concentrated on Miss Granger's—Mrs. Weasley's—slip. A 'Harry' who had been down for Hogwarts, but had died before coming to the school. A 'Harry' with black hair and green eyes, who had died…

Dumbledore drew in a sharp breath.

"Harry Potter?"

Slytherin smiled and nodded.

Dumbledore's mouth was very dry. "How?" he asked, confused.

Miss Weasley—Mrs. Potter—smiled widely.

"We'll tell you."


	5. Flashback

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

The Founders Four

Chapter Five: Flashback

It happened on the last day of term. After Dumbldore's funeral, while the rest of the students went back to the school to get their things, there had been a long conversation by the lake, hidden from the teachers by Harry's invisibility cloak. Ginny, being her usual stubborn self, had acquiesced to Harry's wishes only on the condition that she be allowed to know why she wasn't allowed to come along. And so, after a long argument, they told her.

Everything.

Afterward, there had been a long period of contemplative thought, followed by yet another muffliato-ed argument, before Hermione had very quietly reminded them all that they did have to get their things ready for the trip home, and that if they didn't hurry, they would miss the train. And so, with Ron's arm around Hermione, taking the lead, and Ginny hand in hand with Harry, casually commenting on the lovely Xirianu buds in Professor Sprout's garden this time of year, they all traipsed back up to the castle.

Nothing happened until Harry and Ginny entered the castle. Ron and Hermione entered without incident, and were nearly to the marble staircase before Harry and Ginny crossed the threshold. And that was when Hogwarts made her move.

_Welcome home, my Founders._

Searing pain lanced through their heads, and they collapsed, synapses exploding with long forgotten knowledge. Languages, spells, Masteries in fields practiced no longer. Abilities, never discovered, were exposed. Magical cores expanded exponentially. Repressed emotions flew to the forefront.

One by one they awoke, knowledge still flooding their brains, and sat upright, staring. Helga Hufflepuff, in the form of Ginny Weasley, looked at each of them in turn, a steely gleam in her chestnut eyes.

"There is no way in Magic—" she said quietly, her voice radiating resolve, "—that you can leave me behind now."

* * *

It happened two months later, on the first day of the new Hogwarts term.

Once they had locked themselves away from the student body of Hogwarts(in a broom cupboard), Hermione had instantly taken charge. She insisted that they gather their belongings, to be kept on their person at all times. She also demanded that they keep out of sight of any and all students and teachers, utmost secrecy a top priority.

It was done exactly as Hermione planned. Familiar griffin, gyrfalcon, badger and viper had never died, tied to life by aching bonds with souls that had never left the earth, and with their every worldly possession that was not locked away in Gringotts, the Founders and their familiars met in the Training Room to formulate a strategy.

First, they set about discovering and correcting the limitations of their new bodies, and exploring the benefits. Harry and Ginny were both taller than Salazar and Helga had been, but Harry's eyes had needed a strong vision-correcting charm, and Ginny's Healer's Runes had needed reapplication. A hair manageability spell for Hermione was all that was required (she had been the one to need the vision correcting charm the previous time around), and for Ron, a mild memory charm to make him release the prejudice against Divination that was clouding his Sight.

Brewing strengthening potions and retraining their new bodies to their old fighting methods had taken most of the first month. After that, Ron decided that he required 'some quality time, Gazing with Geiror', as he put it, and so was unavailable to join in the 'duel' that resulted between the others.

Harry had needed practice in his Discernment, the ability to 'see' Magic, unweave it, and change the spell into something with the same magical Articles. Hermione had found it necessary to relearn the precise technique involved in dismantling an Aura to release all the magic in a Core, effectively decommissioning the person without causing them physical pain. Ginny had simply needed to break in her new Healers Runes. And so the duel erupted, with Hermione attempting to destroy Harry's aura, Harry trying to change the spell to one of its brothers (a rather complex version of Stupefy that did more than simply stun), and Ginny to patch up whichever failed.

It was the first day of July when they finally ventured forth into the world outside Hogwarts. They had stopped first at Gringotts and completely emptied their ancestral vaults as heirs of themselves (Harry had also retrieved the money from both the Potter and Black vaults), and replaced this with useless clutter transfigured to look real, provided one did not attempt to take it outside Gringotts.

They had arranged through Gringotts for both Harry's and Ginny's emancipation, and this accomplished, had legally married before the courts of London. Magically, they were already married, Ron to Hermione and Harry to Ginny, so the usual binding ceremony needed not take place. But from this happy occasion, everything slid downward.

Hermione's parents had been killed in an attempt to discover the whereabouts of the four during their month-long isolation in Hogwarts. The Burrow was destroyed in a Death Eater attack, leaving only two survivors. Remus Lupin had been murdered by a mob that had swept London in early June, killing every werewolf, vampire, veela, or hag they could get their hands on. And to make matters worse, the Horcrux in the locket that Salazar had given Helga on the eve of their first wedding anniversary had been sold by Mundungus Fletcher to the highest bidder, and was now who knew where.

It took the remaining month of Hogwarts' summer holiday, but Sshycien was finally able to find Nagini as she was out hunting, and from there, Ron's now venom-coated sword made easy work of the Horcrux.

By this time, Harry had remembered that he had seen Rowena's diadem in the Room of Requirement, so they returned swiftly to Hogwarts. They had been shocked to find it filled with students, old and new.

Taking great care to remain unseen, the four managed to get to the Room of Requirement with no interruption. But, just after they had destroyed the Horcrux (Ron had done it, as Hermione couldn't bear to harm her diadem), Harry felt a great surge of anger, and they knew.

Voldemort had discovered Nagini. He knew that someone was onto him. He knew they were at Hogwarts.

And he was on his way.

Ginny and Hermione, dressed as the founders of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and very self conscious for it, went immediately to the Great Hall to orchestrate the evacuation of the students to Hogsmeade, to Headmistress McGonagall's great shock. Ron and Harry, armed with two wands each, the swords of their former selves and numerous explosive and corrosive potions, went out to lure the Death Eaters to the wide central courtyard, away from the fleeing students.

Much of the battle itself was as yet a blur, it being so fresh in the minds of the speakers, but each knew one thing: Voldemort had revealed himself, and by the time that Ginny and Hermione arrived from the Great Hall the _Priori Incantatem_ was already in effect.


	6. Preparations and Conversations

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

* * *

Chapter Six: Preparations and Conversations

To be perfectly honest, Harry was very glad that he hadn't had to do any talking as of yet. This whole situation was awkward enough without having to be the one explaining. And some of the stories were just far too personal. Ginny's and Ron's and Hermione's private feelings and losses could easily be left out of any grand, all-encompassing story of their adventures, but none of his could be. Harry felt very exposed.

He cast a thankful glance at Hermione and Ginny, and they smiled at him. Ron winked.

+_Look at Dumbledore_+ sent Ron gleefully. Harry looked. The man had sat back in his gilt chair, his elbows on the chair's arms, fingers steepled. He was, at that moment, looking over his spectacles, staring rather fixedly at nothing. +_We've stumped him_+ said Ron, who was clearly happy with this development. +_He doesn't know what to do_.+

+_You know_+ said Ginny rather acidly. +_For once, Ronald, that might actually be a bad thing_.+ If they had been speaking normally, Ron would have snapped his mouth shut. As it was, he shot Ginny a glare, and settled back in his own chair, stroking Geiror's head.

Geiror made a contented sound somewhere between a purr and a coo, and in Harry's lap, Sshycien laughed. /Strange sounds you Warmbloods make. Salazar, you are really the only Warmblood I have ever met who can produce a decent sound./

Harry laughed lightly, glad for this interruption of some of his darker thoughts, and suddenly, he felt all eyes on him. Damn. /Well, you know, Sshycien, I do try my best./

Sshycien's coils tightened around Harry's wrist. /Of course you do/ Sshycien hissed amusedly, his tone that of a pleased grandfather. Harry scowled.

/Shut up, you/ he huffed irritably. Sshycien laughed. Muttering in Parseltounge about crazed, millennium-old snakes and their superiority complexes, and thereby causing Sshycien to laugh even harder, Harry raised his gaze to Dumbledore, who was staring at him in rather avid fascination.

"So," began Ginny, noticing Harry's uncomfortable expression. "I suppose we'd better decide how to proceed. We can't very well stay in your office until we figure out how to get back—if such a thing is even possible. We're going to have to reveal ourselves to the wizarding world sometime or another, and seeing as we're all dead in this world, twice over, I'm not entirely sure as to the best way to carry on."

Dumbledore looked away from Harry now, his expression pensive. "It all depends on what you think is best, of course. Your families—" Ginny and Ron sat a little straighter "—would be very happy if you were presented as your current selves, but we would need to invent a plausible way for you to actually have been alive all this time. Conversely, you could remain the Founders, brought through time by a freak accident with Priori Incantatem, but then you would have to be 'sent back' to 'your own time' at some point."

Ron nodded sagely. "And then, of course, there is the question as to whether we will be staying here permanently, or only for a few days. I could try to find out, if you'd like."

Dumbledore looked confused, but Hermione lifted her head slightly. "You do that, Ronald. And I'll meet with the Arithmancy professor to go over my calculations; see if we even have that option."

Dumbledore looked from Ron to Hermione and back again. "I'm curious. Just how would you be 'finding out' what you will be doing?"

Ginny grinned at Ron slyly, who looked rather ashamed. "Ron here is a rather gifted Seer."

Dumbledore gave an, "Ah," and sat back in his chair, settling into thought. Hermione pursed her lips.

Harry shot her a glance. +_Still think Divination's a bit 'wooly', Hermione?+_

Ron and Ginny snorted. Hermione narrowed her eyes, but gave no other sign that she had heard. +_It has its uses, I suppose_+ she sniffed.

Fawkes, who had returned from his mysterious errand to 'Professor Vector-Black'—who Harry had a sneaking suspicion was the Arithmancy professor—sometime in the middle of Ginny's account of the Department of Mysteries fiasco, let out a long, quavering note. Raethiel, Hermione's gyrfalcon (who was currently perched on one of the many silver, puffing instruments in Dumbledore's office) gave a loud shriek, and Geiror added his own big voice(a sound half-way between a lion's roar, and the screech of an eagle) to the sudden cacophony of sound. The fact that two of the three birds in the room were raptors, rather than songbirds, appeared not to have occurred to the animals themselves.

"Shush, Raethiel," soothed Hermione, effectively calming the bird. Geiror quailed under a harsh glare from Ron.

Ginny frowned. "What's got into them?"

The door banged open, revealing three men. Harry and Ron shot to their feet, hands on their swords, wands already drawn. Ginny pulled her dagger left-handed, and thrust out the hand with her Healer's Runes, and Hermione reached back for an arrow from her quiver. Herana, Ginny's badger, drew back her lips in a snarl; Raethiel cawed loudly and flapped up to the ceiling; Geiror reared up on his hind legs, roar/shrieking again, his big wings outstretched and very nearly knocking Ron in the head; Sshycien slunk to the floor and rose up, hissing and baring his fangs.

Dumbledore stood suddenly. "Gentlemen!"

The three men reeled back shock plainly showing on their features. "Uh… Sorry, Headmaster," faltered the taller of the three, adjusting his glasses, eyes wide. "We'll just, uh… wait… Outside. C'mon, guys."

And then they were gone, as suddenly as they had arrived.

Ron sat heavily in his chair and ran a hand over his eyes. "I guess that settles it. There's no way we can be our present selves now, not without a big show of leaving and coming back again."

Dumbledore nodded. "Those were the Marauders. It's going to be all over the school by breakfast."

Harry nodded slowly, knowing that Dumbledore spoke the truth from his own experiences with the Hogwarts news wildfires. Then, his brain kicked in.

"The Marauders!" he exploded, standing so forcefully that his chair toppled with a loud crash. "Who were those men?"

"Those men were our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, our Transfiguration Professor, and our Auror in Charge, the Deuling instructor." Dumbledore looked at him strangely.

"Respectively, Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Sirius Black."


	7. Starting the Mill

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

Chapter Seven: Starting the Mill

The silence was so loud it hurt. Ron Weasley flicked his wand and Harry's chair righted itself.

Harry stumbled back two steps and fell heavily into the chair, and Ron silently praised Divination. "_What_?" Harry breathed, his voice closer to the tone he used with Sshycien than normal human speech. "Remus is alive? _Sirius _is alive?"

Hermione leant forward, her eyes narrowed. "You mentioned families," she said shortly. "Who?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Lily and James Potter, their daughter Therese, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, and Thomas and Julia Granger and their daughter Irene."

The silence was even worse. Geiror broke it with a loud, meaningless caw/growl, and Sshycien hissed at him. Ron sank further into his chair, absently running a finger over his moustache, eyes glazed.

_Flames licked high into the air on the outskirts of the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole. Even from high in the air on their brooms, Ginny and Ron saw and knew. In a flash, they shot off to the ground, ignoring Harry and Hermione's warning shouts._

_They landed hard, eyes streaming only partly from the smoke._

_The Burrow was caught in the throes of a horrible inferno, far past any hope of saving. A rough hewn wooden sign, just beyond the reach of the conflagration read:_

_TRAITORS_

_It was five days before they knew if any had survived. _

Ron's breath caught in his throat. The possibilities of this new dimension were endless! George wouldn't be so horribly lost, and Charlie—

"Have they been injured?" asked Ginny worriedly, voicing Ron's thoughts. If Charlie was in the same condition he had been in their previous world…

Dumbledore laughed. "Of course they've been injured; everybody has been at one time or another. But if you mean seriously, or from participation in the war, then—" he chuckled again "—no."

Words could not describe Ron's absolute elation. He hadn't been happier since his second wedding to Hermione. His mother; father; brothers! Alive in this world! It was almost too astonishing to be true!

And yet it had to be. He shared a misty glance with Ginny.

At that moment, nothing—come Hell or high water—_nothing_ would have been able to force him back to his natural dimension.

_+I'd hate to be Johnny Raincloud here+ _said Hermione very quietly, stroking Raethiel pensively. It was clear to Ron, at least, that though she brought bad news, she was very reluctant to do so. +_But he just mentioned a war…+_

_+It's late+ _interjected Harry, his thought-voice rather terse. A quick check revealed that he had thrown up his full Occlumency shields (a set more powerful than even Hermione had ever been able to so much as scratch) around whatever he was feeling and had effectively maintained full Slytherin control. +_Let's head for our rooms--this world's Sirius and Remus are outside; they're horrible gossips, so we can start some good rumors—and sleep on this.+_

"Alright," said Ginny, answering Harry and gaining Dumbledore's attention at once. She gathered Herana into her arms. "It's late. When do you plan to present us to the school?"

Dumbledore blinked. Mentally, Ron grinned. Dumbledore might think them very abrupt, but it would only add to the impressive mystique they already had as reincarnated Founders, other-worlders and dead people.

And when dealing with Albus Dumbledore, impressive mystique was a necessity.

"We could get everyone together at dinner tomorrow, if that's suitable," said Dumbledore, his tone still rather shell shocked.

"Good," said Hermione, standing. Ron recognized Rowena gleaming in her eyes, and settled into Godric himself. "We shall present ourselves at the Great Hall at the sixth hour past midday. Lovely evening, Headmaster. We shall send the professors up."

She walked out, Raethiel flying after her and settling on her shoulder. Ron, now fully Godric Gryffindor, strode confidently behind her. "Come, Geiror."

#You got it,# boss said Geiror, a grin in his big voice.

+_When we get down there, we'll tell them to come up and make a big show of using the Old Language, and our old names+_ Ginny explained as they rode down the spiral stairs. +_We'll part here and go to our rooms separately.+_

_+Let's meet in the Training Room in the morning+ _suggested Hermione, after making her approval known. +_We'll keep out of sight—let the rumors circulate.+_

Ron and Harry had barely nodded when the staircase ground to a halt. Hermione stepped off gracefully, and smiled at something.

"If our conversation with the good Headmaster hath caused any inconvenience to ye gentlemen, we present our deepest and most sincere apologies, fine sirs," said Hermione, bowing her head ever so slightly. Ron grinned. Hermione was terribly good at that; even knowing what to expect, Ron had been taken aback by that transition several times before. Sirius, Remus, and Harry's father, especially, gaped at her like fish out of water. "Our conversation is complete, and the Headmaster is eagerly awaiting thy presence." She ducked her head again, and turned to Ginny.

"Pleasant night, Rowena, dear," said Ginny.

Ginny and Hermione kissed each other goodnight on the cheek, following the old French tradition. "Lovely evening, Helga. Come along, Godric, dearest."

"Marvelous, Rowena, love," said Ron, gently touching her arm. He turned to Harry, clasping his hand and elbow. "Get a good rest, Salazar. Thou shalt need it if thou duelest me tomorrow."

Harry gave a little smirk. "And thee as well, Gryffindor."

"Sweet Salazar!" called Ginny from her end of the corridor. "Come along!"

Harry walked toward Ginny, hissing something in a decidedly grumpy tone, and Ron could have sworn that Sshycien was laughing. "Yes, Helga Honey!"

Ginny's eyes flashed with indignation, hefting Herana in her arms. "I warned thee; thou shalt not call me thus!"

"_I_ warned _thee;_ thou shalt not call _me_ thus!" Their bickering faded rapidly as they moved down the corridor toward a certain out-of-order girls restroom. Ron turned to Hermione. "Milady?"

Hermione took the offered arm, and they strode off in the opposite direction, Geiror and Raethiel leading the way. Ron was vaguely aware that Sirius, Remus and James stood where they had left them, still gaping.


	8. The Chaber of Secrets

Harry Potter

The Founders Four

By JadedofMara

Chapter Eight: The Chamber of Secrets

Harry Potter awoke at dawn, though he could hardly realize it, given his current position. For a while, he simply laid beside his still-sleeping wife, staring at the black and silver canopy above their bed, running things through his mind. The experience of this new dimension was wearing on his nerves, and he wasn't entirely sure when—or even if—he would be ready to face 'Lily and James Potter, and their daughter Therese'.

Herana lifted her head lazily as Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, but let it flop back down to her paws. The cold stone floor greeted Harry's feet, and he pulled them back up with a wince. All the spells and enchantments he and Helga had used on their chambers were brittle, disintegrated over time, and the slightest use of any of them destroyed what was left. Their bed had required extensive restorative charms just so they could sleep, and there was still much to be done. They were lucky that the major wards had remained strong, and that they only had mildew and cobwebs to deal with, rather than merpeople and seaweed from the lake above.

Harry whipped out his Holly wand. It really was far too early in the morning to cast a full strength heating ward on the stone floors of the entire chamber.

"_Accio_ _slippers!"_

Harry heard one of the many drawers of his large armoire burst open in the next room and a pair of large and fluffy Golden Snitch slippers shot out of the snake-encrusted door. Harry grinned as he pulled them on. The slippers had been Salazar's favorites way back when, a gag gift from Godric in response to a Quaffle hat, and he enjoyed them just as much now. It had been rather interesting to discover that he had inherited both the Potter and the Slytherin talent for Quidditch, although it was clear that the Slytherin was stronger, seeing as he would have been a Chaser otherwise.

Pulling on his robe, he padded out into the main hall of the Chamber of Secrets. He cast his glance at the numerous serpentine columns, up to the birds flying about the shadowed ceiling and sighed at the sad disrepair the place was in. The once elegantly illuminated ceiling was in a sorry state, and the statue of the warlock who had tutored them in the art of magic down at the end of the hall needed some reworking. Hirth's thumb was falling off.

Glancing down at the floor, Harry had to repress a laugh. The fact that Kaesseixya had been locked in this chamber for a millennium was easily evidenced by the large artistic curves and curls that had been carved on the floor by repetitive and continual passage of the body of a snake over the same spot on stone. Parsleglyphs, as they were called in English, were a snake's writing method, formed by gliding in specific patterns in mud or sand. Wise serpents had developed a way of carving their timeless proverbs into stone by slithering in the same pattern over, and over and over again, and now, Kaesseixya had written her own words of wisdom all over the floor of the Chamber of Secrets.

_Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd. Oo'r ahthahd._

/I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored./

Harry shook his head, grinning, and moved onward.

/Sshycien!/ Harry called, moving closer to the statue. /Are you up there with Kaesseixya?/

The statue moved, its mouth opening wide, and Sshycien's white head appeared. /Ssh!/ he hissed, his tone like that of a reproving uncle. /Younger Aunt Kaesseixya is sleeping. Have you no respect for those of the High-caste, Warmblood?/

Harry grinned. Serpents followed a very strict caste system. Sshycien and Kaesseixya were the only two he had ever met that did not, and the only reason for that was that he had raised them himself from the egg. Magical serpents made up the upper two castes, High-caste and Magic-caste, the distinction between the two being other methods of killing than venom. Snakes that were not magical but still venomous were of the Poison-caste, and non-venomous snakes were of the Low-caste. Snakes referred to those of their own caste as Brother and Sister, using the designation Elder or Younger before the title. Lower-caste snakes were called Grandsons and -daughters, Sons and Daughters, and Nieces and Nephews, while higher-caste snakes were called Aunt and Uncle, Mother and Father, Grandmother and –father, all depending on the caste relationship between snakes. Mammals, birds and other Warmbloods were their own category, and the only designation that Sshycien and Kaesseixya used. So with Sshycien referring to Kaesseixya as Younger Aunt (meaning that Kaesseixya, while younger than Sshycien, was still a High-caste while Sshycien was only a Magic-caste, and was given due respect), Harry knew that something was up.

/'Younger Aunt Kaesseixya'? 'High-caste'? Yeah right, Sshyc/ he laughed. /When have you ever called Kaesseixya a High-caste? And if Kaesseixya's asleep, I'm a Halfblood!/

Sshycien's tounge flittered out. /In that body, you are./

/Ha, ha, Mr. Smarty-Pants/ Harry scoffed, smirking slightly. /You knew what I meant. That's not gonna work./ He raised his voice a little, cupping his hands around his mouth. /Nice try, Sseix, but the party's over! Get out here, girl!/

Kaesseixya's large, acid green head appeared, the bulbous yellow eyes covered by a shielding membrane which stopped the killing effect. /Why is it that you never fall for that one?/ she grumped rhetorically, and if she could have, Harry knew she would be scowling.

/What can I say? I like what you did with the floor, by the way./ Kaesseixya stuck out her tongue at him, and Harry laughed. /But really though, just wanted to say you guys have got the day to yourselves, until six. Play nice./

The snakes looked at each other, and Sshycien winked. /You got it, Salazar/ he hissed. /C'mon, Kaesseixya. You'll never believe the stories I've got to tell you./

Harry's lighthearted mood evaporated as the snakes slithered back into Hirth's mouth. He scuffed his Snitch slippers on Kaesseixya's graffitied floor as he trudged up the hall, and grimaced when he felt damp rising through to his feet.

"_Flagratiscougifumaximaefungaprotego_!"

There was a spectacular _boom,_ and a mountain of cobwebs and dust fell to the ground. Harry Vanished the debris with a wave of his wand, blinking furiously. He certainly was awake now.

Harry looked around his chamber with a sigh. The place was a little better, he supposed. The soft gray sheen of Warding was back on the walls, protecting them from the damp and restoring their splendor. The stench was gone, which was a blessing, but there was still much to be done.

Harry cast his gaze at the ceiling. There was one more thing he could do before meeting up with Ron and the others. For this job, Harry drew Salazar's wand of Ash from an inside pocket of his long, green and silver dressing gown, and aimed it at the ceiling. "_Demiperminatusiluminatuvariblae!_"

At once, the ceiling was aglow with its former radiance, exposing Helga's gorgeous addition to the Chamber. The serpentine columns supported a beautiful tableau mirroring the outside sky like the Great Hall, hills ringing the vaulted ceiling. Badgers danced and played while fluttering birds swooped magically overhead, all in bas relief.

Harry looked impassively, his face revealing nothing. Ginny would be pleased to see her birds again, he thought, walking swiftly down the hall. He suddenly stopped, standing squarely on two foot-sized stones in the floor. Stones like these, all inscribed with the Transportation Rune, were scattered throughout the castle, allowing the Founders, and any person fluent in either Parsletounge, Gobledegook, Mermish or Elven (the non-human languages spoken by Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw respectively) access to any other set in the castle.

He jabbed his Ash wand at a seemingly innocuous bit of wall before him, and muttered /To the Training Room, please./

In a flash of light, he was whisked away, and found himself, as suddenly as he had left, within the Founder's Training Room.


	9. Wizards Duel

AN: I"M SO SORRY!!! I have all the way up to chapter 13 written, but I'm writing on a computer with no internet, so I always forget to post. A new chapter should be up

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Harry Potter

The Founders Four

Chapter Nine: Wizard's Duel

Harry stepped off the transportation stones and into the training room proper, rolling his head and stretching his arms. The Training Room, as they called it, was really much more than merely a room for keeping fit. The colors of the four Houses each adorned a separate wall of the big, square central room. Each wall had a large recessed area with a personal penseive, a large desk and specialized work station tailored to the abilities and Masteries of each Founder. Godric's nook had curtains to darken it for crystal gazing. Helga's niche was lined in shelves filled with Healer's instruments, as Rowena's shelves were filled with rare texts and ancient scrolls. Salazar's alcove included a full potions lab. There were also two ornately carved oak doors set in each wall, one on either side of the work space. The first door on the Ravenclaw wall led to a large common room with plush couches and a stone fireplace; the second hid a long passage that led to a password portrait in the school's library. Across from these, behind the doors on the Hufflepuff wall, there was a small scale hospital ward and a sunny greenhouse. The western Gryffindor wall held a door to the stone staircase leading to the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw private quarters, as well as a war room with maps of Hogwarts, England and Europe. Another staircase down to the Chamber of Secrets was hidden by a door on the Slytherin wall, and a large room with a sort of two way mirror that could be used to observe any part of the castle or the grounds. There was a heavily warded dueling stage in the center of the main hall, and in a corner, stairs led up to a dining room and a full roman bath.

Harry smiled as he looked around. The heavy, constant use of magic in the upper floors had preserved all the furniture and décor, and not a single thing was missing from its place. Ron glanced up from his work table with a grin, looking peculiar with blood and bile up to his elbows.

"Looking a bit Christmas-y, are we?" he inquired, turning back to the bloody mass on his table. Harry looked down at himself, frowning, but grinned when he saw what Ron meant.

"It's not my fault I haven't had time to tailor all my old clothes to this new body, you know," protested Harry in a mock-hurt voice, drawing his green dressing gown tighter around him over his red and gold Gryffindor House pajamas. He walked across the room and peered calculatingly into the mess that Ron was all but swimming in. "Bird entrails?"

"Yup," muttered Ron distractedly, digging deeper into his intestines.

Harry leaned in closer, wrinkling his nose. He lifted a single coil of the bowel in his fingers, rubbing it slightly. "Some kind of parrot?"

"Sulfur Crested Cockatoos, actually. Three of them," said Ron, squinting closely at about three centimeters worth of innards. "Huh. Gonna have lightning tomorrow. Good Quidditch weather next week though." And with that he dove, headfirst, into his pile of cockatoo guts.

"Ah, Ron?" asked Harry, a little concernedly, watching what he supposed was Ron squirming around with the entrails. "Where'd you get three Sulfur Crested Cockatoos?"

"Summoned 'em," said Ron, his voice muffled.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "You do realize that the London Zoo will probably report three missing cockatoos tomorrow, right?"

The pile of bowels made a noncommittal noise. Harry sighed again. "Well did you at least remember to save me the central nervous system this time?"

"Damnit!"

Harry tsked in annoyance and looked around, noticing the conspicuous lack of fur and feathers. "Geiror?" he asked.

"Sleeping, the lazy oaf," grunted the vitals. "Although, according to this, he's about to be woken up by Raethiel in about five minutes."

Harry laughed. "What are you looking for anyway?"

"Differences between this universe and ours."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "In bird guts?"

"Sure. Not very many people bother with them anymore, animal rights activists and all that, but they really are one of the more accur—_Aha_!" Ron pulled out of the pile, a tiny piece of innard clasped firmly between two fingers, his red hair matted down and slimy. He peered at it, squinting, but shook his head. "Damn. Figgy pudding tonight. I hate figgy pudding."

Harry grinned. "You could just look in the library, you know."

Godric looked at him. Not Ron, Godric. And it was the look, too. "Sans-sanity Salazar," he said, as he shook his head, using one of his numerous old nicknames. "Why in Magic would I look in the library when I've got research-riveted Rowena to do it for me?" Ron grinned suddenly. "You're absolutely brilliant, Harry," he crowed, vanishing the innards with a wave of his wand and coming out from behind his table to the main floor of the training room. "And for that, I'll have to punish you."

Harry sent a silent 'Scourgify!' at Ron with a flick of his wand, and Ron glared at him, mounting the steps of the sparring platform. Harry grinned and followed. He really did enjoy Ron's idea of punishment.

Ron swept his wand up in a salute so that its tip hovered directly between his eyes. "Harry James Potter," he intoned in an extraordinarily formal voice. "I hereby challenge you to a Wizard's Duel, sir."

Harry smirked and mirrored Ron's stance. "Ronald Bilius Weasley," he said, equally ceremonial. "I accept your challenge."

Together in perfect unison, they snapped their wands down to their sides. "As the challenger, I reserve my right to name my terms," said Ron, playfulness gone from his voice now. "Standard magic, allowed. Divination, allowed. Discernment, allowed. Parselmagic, allowed. Gobledecharms, allowed. Dark Magic, or Veiled Arts—" Ron stared hard at Harry "—not allowed."

Harry inclined his head slightly, revealing nothing. He knew exactly what Ron was up to, and it didn't surprise him in the slightest. Both Ron and Godric before him had been dead set against Harry's and Salazar's easy use of the Dark, or Veiled, Arts. "I accept your terms," Harry said solemnly, and inwardly smirked when Ron failed in hiding his surprise.

"As the challenged, I reserve my right to name my weapons," said Harry, grinning outright now. He left a long pause, and Ron just stared at him, expectant. Harry took pity on him.

"Both wands."

Ron let a small telepathic +Brilliant!+ escape, but his expression remained neutral save for a slight quirk in one corner of his mouth. He lithely sprang into his assault stance; body turned perpendicular to his opponent, but face turned toward, Redwood wand in the right had pointed downward on the left side of the face, arm bent over the top of the head, and Willow wand in the left hand pointing upward from below the chin on the right side of the face. "I accept your weapons. Shall we duel?"

Harry cocked a single eyebrow. "Gladly," he said, and assumed his starting position; feet spread at shoulder width, wrists crossed tight over the chest, the tips of his equal-length Holly and Ash wands directly at eye level, framing his face.

"Men," came Ginny's carrying whisper. Harry glanced her way, and noted appreciatively that she had managed to find time to tailor her old nightclothes to her new body. "Going through with a full out Wizard's Duel at five thirty in the morning. And wearing Quidditch slippers, both of them! They're mental!"

"Pajamas and duels. So completely typical," agreed Hermione, much louder, stepping into the room from the door in Godric's wall, drawing her wands from within her clingy nightdress. "The least they could do is make it a four-way?" She raised her eyebrows at the last, sending the question to Ron. Ron, who had been staring rather dumbstruck at Hermione's outfit, grinned, and nodded.

"Terms modified," he said, watching as Hermione mounted the stage and jumped into combat attitude; lunged forward on her left leg, Mahogany and Maple wands crossed above her head. "Save the Dark or Veiled Arts, all branches of magic are allowed."

Ginny flicked out her wands and assumed her customary battle posture; weight supported on the back leg, leaning away from the fight, right hand holding her Birch wand like a quill, wrist flexed backwards to allow full use of her Healer's Runes, while her left hand held the more powerful Ebony wand arced over her head like a scorpion's sting.

"Let's Duel."


	10. Old Habits

AN: Ok, here's the deal: Remember how last chapter I said that I had 13 chappys written and only nine posted? Well, none of those chapters included the duel that was hinted at in that chapter. And, since nearly _everybody_ said they couldn't wait to see the duel, I had to write a whole new chappy for all you deserving readers out there. So here it is, and I really do hope you enjoy the next chapter of

The Founders Four

Chapter Ten: Old Habits

For over one thousand years, Helga Hufflepuff had been renowned as one of, if not the greatest Healer ever to have lived. This reputation, though having inspired countless generations of Hufflepuffs to follow in their Founder's footsteps, had nonetheless bestowed on Helga Hufflepuff a stereotype of a plump, bustling, motherly kind of witch, loyal to a fault, who's talents included healing, herbalism, and little else.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

When treating patients, Helga Hufflepuff had been efficient, swift, and skillful, while still maintaining a gentle bedside manner. But outside her hospital, Helga Hufflepuff had been much more.

She had been a mother of four, and foster mother to hundreds, a skilled Chaser on the Quidditch pitch, a fierce defender of friends and family, a devoted learner, a patient teacher. She had been born a speaker of Mermish, and had sheltered many outcast merfolk in the lake of Hogwarts. A Master Spellsmith, she had perfected thousands of commonly used and obscure incantations. She had been one of the most powerful Empaths seen in several millenia, able to both sense and control the emotions of an entire army, bolstering courage and removing fear. She had invented Healer's Runes, lines applied to the flesh of the wand hand with a potion made from thestral blood and unicorn horn that increased the healing power of certain spells to an immense degree, even allowing certain injuries to be healed wandlessly.

Helga Hufflepuff had also been one of the premier duelists of her day.

And Helga Hufflepuff really needed to stop thinking of herself in her full name and get back to the duel in front of her.

The other reincarnated Founders of Hogwarts had not moved a muscle since the official start of the duel. Only particularly powerful emotions were physically visible to Helga, and to judge from the steadily increasing orangish tint to her vision, Godric was getting quite impatient. It had been tradition ever since their first friendly duel at the age of twelve to let Helga start, and nobody was about to change that now.

There was also a tradition as to which spell Helga would first cast, and whom she would aim toward, and what they would block with. But after that, the retaliation spell was entirely up to chance.

Gathering magic from the air around her and directly from her own Core, Helga felt the magic course down her Healer's Runes and into her wand.

"_Ieuakalo!" _she said.

Ieuakalo was a basic bone growth charm, pale yellow in color, that was used to heal bones that had been broken in ways that made it impractical to use an instant-healing spell. It did not require a lot of power, as it merely sped a natural process. The charm was, however, mildly dangerous, as too much power could cause the rapid growth to spread to other bones, causing bone spurs and fusing joints.

Helga's spell carried enough power to rip the human body apart, leaving nothing but a grisly 'tree' of bone.

Following tradition, Helga directed her innocuous stream of yellow light across the dueling stage toward Godric, who deftly summoned the skeleton of one of the birds who's entrails he had been perusing to block the spell. The tiny skeleton grew enormously, and shattered as it hit the floor. Godric, smirking joyously, banished the sharp bone fragments out toward Rowena.

The duel began in earnest. Rowena had a shimmering iridescent shield up in seconds, and with the bone fragments bouncing off it, she shot off a blasting hex toward Godric just in time to roll out of the way of Helga's next _Ieuakalo. _Godric had already engaged Salazar in a small back-and-forth exchange with Rowena's blasting hex, using shields that merely bounced the spell back toward the caster. They had been bouncing the same hex back and forth for about thirty seconds, grinning like kids in a candy store, until Helga got annoyed with them and, ducking a powerful banishing charm from Rowena, sent a Bat Bogey Hex hurtling across the stage toward her husband.

Without even looking, Salazar flung out a hand and unravelled the magic of Helga's hex. The silvery jet of magic seemed to explode, and, coalescing into an orange stream, changed course in mid air, and slammed into Rowena.

Rowena's hair turned green. Before Salazar could even realize that an incantation had been said, Rowena had him on the floor under a powerful tickling charm, screaming with laughter, hardly able to breathe. Helga jumped to the defense of her husband with a remembrance charm, forcing Rowena to remember an embarrassing episode involving Gilderoy Lockhart. Godric instantly retaliated with a fear curse.

Helga was barely able to duck fast enough, but she felt a whisper of Dementor-like chill sweep over her, and a thrill of irrational terror.

The duel kicked up a notch. Instead of simple blasting, tickling and prank spells easily repelled by simple shields, Stunners began to fly, emotion spells brought forth panic and terror, and more debilitating memories were conjured up. Spells flew with such speed that Godric had Rowena screaming over the death of her first mother—and Helga seeing nothing but the silver of Rowena's grief—before he even realized he had hit his wife. Blinded by anger at himself for torturing his wife thus, Godric's next spell was cast without careful thought or aim, and sent a conjured dagger hurtling straight toward Salazar's throat.

Before Helga could shout a warning, Salazar had taken care of the dagger. With a lazy flick of his wand, he said "_Kataotrepho_." The dagger disintegrated.

The duel froze.

_Kataotrepho_ was Dark.

Salazar realized a second too late what he had done. Godric was so angry, Helga could only see red. A flicker of pale green fear raced across her vision from Salazar.

"_Corrupted_," growled Godric.

Salazar turned on his heel, and left the room, closing the staircase door with a sound so loud that Helga felt it in her knees. Godric just stood there, still glaring murderously at the spot where Salazar had been moments before, breathing heavily.

"That was stupid, Godric!" screamed Helga into the stunned silence. "You know he always reacts to projectiles with _Kataotrepho_! You were baiting him!" She too raced from the room to the long spiraling staircase that led down to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Salazar!" she called, but it was too late. Another bone shaking slam echoed up the long stone cylinder, and Salazar was away, probably already locked in his private training room, throwing Dark Arts at dueling dummies that looked a lot like Godric.

Helga bowed her head, and wept.

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That was my first EVER fight scene. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG!!! I'll try to fix it as soon as I can!

Thanks so much. New chappy up this weekend

Jaded


	11. Announcements

Harry Potter

Founder's Four

JadedofMara

Chapter Eleven: Announcements

James Potter raked a hand through his jet black hair, making it stand up in twenty more places than it had previously. It was painfully obvious to him, at least, that well over half of the fifth-year Switching Spell essays had been written on the train—and in the same compartment too, as they all contained the same line about switching ears onto a cactus at some point or another. James was just glad that his daughter Therese had a remarkably unique essay. Therese's best friend, Kaly, also had written a marvelous essay, and though she too used the example of switching ears onto a cactus, she knew that Dean Thomas had accidentally done just that in his fifth year, and cited him as her example.

Kaly (whose name was really Apokalypsis, but went by Kaly for obvious reasons) was Remus Lupin's only daughter. Remus had married his sweetheart just as James had married his, and Xandra had gone on to become the Ancient Runes teacher at Hogwarts, just as Remus had been made Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Therese and Kaly, born just days apart, had both inherited their mothers' brains and their fathers' love of the occasional practical joke.

Well, maybe not so occasional.

James was fairly certain that he, Remus and Sirius were the only people in all of Hogwarts who knew that quiet, studious Therese Potter and Kaly Lupin actually made up the infamous prankster group, the Chimeras. The Chimeras were even better pranksters than the Marauders were, although their success could have been merely the lack of arrogance. While it had been well known who the Marauders were, the only thing that anyone knew about the Chimeras was that one was a Gryffindor, the other a Slytherin(thus the name Chimera, Lion and Snake together) and both were girls. Remus kept a careful log book of all their accomplishments just as he had for the Marauders, and it was often read from in the staff room in the evenings, though 'Gryffindor' was substituted for Kaly's name and 'Slytherin' took the place of Therese's.

James had to admit he was a lot more lenient with the Slytherins now that Therese was among the Snakes. He still found it strange sometimes that his daughter had become a Slytherin, but Lily usually laughed him off. Lily maintained, as she had for the five years since Therese's and Kaly's sorting, that Therese's Slytherin-ness and Kaly's Gryffindor-ness was all James', Sirius' and Remus' fault, seeing as Therese had been raised by the Marauders to be the tactician, instilling cunning, while Kaly was groomed to be the perpetrator, breeding courage. James, of course, had no opinion of his own to offer, and was usually silent in these discussions. As the Muggle Studies professor, Lily only had to teach a small percentage of Hogwarts' population, so her time spent with Therese was far greater than James', as he was always grading papers, so James usually deferred to Lily on matters regarding his only child.

Suddenly, James' eyes burned, his vision blurring. Not here! he thought frantically, squeezing his eyes shut to block the unexpected onslaught of tears. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. He couldn't help it. His thoughts had wandered onto Harry again.

The Order meeting that James and Lily had been reporting to on the evening of All Hallow's Eve, 1981, had run several hours later than expected. Something about an up coming Death Eater attack on the Hogwarts Express as it took students home for the winter holidays. James couldn't really remember. All he knew was that by the time he and Lily got home, well past midnight and still laughing at the sight of Snape dressed up in a pumpkin outfit, courtesy of Sirius, the Dark Mark had already hovered over their home at Godric's Hollow for well over an hour. Rushing into their home, they had found nothing at all out of place except the muted TV (why Lily had insisted on having one of those in the house, James would never know) still running, flickering late night television over the empty livingroom. Harry and Peter, who had been babysitting him, had both vanished without a trace.

Blinking furiously to drive the lingering wetness from his eyes, James shook himself and marked the final fifth year essay 'Troll'. Now was really not the time to be thinking of Harry, not while James had a roomful of ickle firsties to deal with. He would grieve come Halloween, when Sirius substituted for his classes as always. Stretching his neck, James pushed his chair back from the desk at the front of his Transfiguration classroom and got to his feet.

"Alright, first-years," he called, voice cutting easily through the chorus of high, squeaky voices crying 'Fuegaltestio!' "Wands down, please. Let's see what you've got." The class instantly quieted, placing their wands on their desks with all the grace of a Hippogriff hog-tied to a Thestral while each tried to fly in the opposite direction to get away from the Giant Squid and a swarm of Bowtruckles, respectively (James would know, too, seeing as Sirius had once tried that in the middle of Care of Magical Creatures class). James walked up and down the rows of tiny Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, complementing Emmerson on how the wood of her match had gone shiny, scolding Glasgrow for scorching his desk. Finally, in the very back of the class, James found what he had been looking for all along.

Two perfect little needles, set exactly three inches apart on the shared desk of Sirius' eleven year old twins, each sharing the identical magical signature of having been transfigured from a match.

James grinned. "Very good, David, Daniella," he praised, winking. Outspoken Daniella, more like her father than her pudgy little brother, positively beamed.

"Thanks, Uncle James!" she chirped. David jabbed his sister in the ribs with his elbow.

"It's 'Professor Potter' when we're in class, 'Ella!" he hissed, looking up at James, embarrassed. James smiled, greatly amused. Where Daniella mirrored a young Sirius in every way, David was the very image of his mother. Annamaria Vector had been a year younger than every other student in the Marauder's year, put ahead from sheer talent, and Sirius had taken her under his wing from the very first day on the Hogwarts Express. She had been his best friend outside the Marauders, and he hers beyond Xandra Campalus and Lily Evans, and in the summer before sixth year, friendship had blossomed into much more. They were married earlier than any other Marauder, but their children came far later, as Sirius had been undercover in Azkaban for several years, as part of his Auror's duties. With the war against Voldemort escalating rapidly and Annamaria already at Hogwarts as the Arithmancy professor, Sirius had been assigned Auror in Charge of Hogwarts, and after a few years had taken on the position of Dueling instructor.

"Sor-ry, 'Avid! Merlin!" grumbled Daniella, folding her arms defiantly across her chest.

"Class," he said, beckoning to the students. "Come see Mr. and Miss Black's needles." James stood back as the first-years crowded around the desk. "They've performed the spell perfectly. Five points to Gryffindor."

The miniature Gryffindors high-fived each other, and slapped Daniella and David on their backs. The little Ravenclaws looked properly embarrassed at being shown up in the first class of the year.

"Back to your desks, first years!" James commanded, moving back to his desk himself. "I've got a very important announcement to make."

In the back of the room, a single, soft voice started singing a Girl Guides song. "Announcements, announcements, annou-ouncements! A terrible death to die, a terrible death to die, a terrible death to be talked to-Ow!"

The class laughed.

"Merlin's pointy purple toenails, 'Avid! That hurt!"

"Okee-dokee, then," cried James, though internally he was laughing as well. Daniella was most certainly her father's daughter. "You may have already seen the notice, but I just wanted to remind you that we are welcoming several very important visitors to Hogwarts tonight, and—"

"Do you know who they are, Professor Potter?" cheeped the little voice belonging to the frantically waving hand in the front row. James shook his head.

"I am not entirely sure, Creevy," he told the latest mousy Creevy boy, Maxwell. It wasn't exactly a lie, although it wasn't exactly a truth either. James had seen the visitors, heard them speak, and Dumbledore had assured him that they were who they said they were, but James personally wasn't going to believe that the Founders had come from one thousand years in the past until he heard they themselves say how they had done it. "But I do know that they will be introduced to the school at dinner this evening, so attendance is mandatory for all students." The mental bell signaling the end of class rang in his head, and James stood.

"I want a drawing of every stage of the transfiguration process for the transformation between a match and a needle, and I want a transfigured needle from each of you, due Friday." Groans echoed around the room, and James smirked. "That is all, you are dismissed."


	12. With Magic

And now, you good little readers, here is THE CHAPTER YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!! in more ways than one. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated, but I was taking my SATs, and I landed the title role in a huge play, and I've been up to my ears in work since christmas. But here it is at last, the long awaited... (dun, dun, _dun!)_

_INTRODUCTION OF THE FOUNDERS!!!_

Hooray!

So sit back, relax and enjoy

The Founders Four  
A Harry Potter Fan Fiction  
By JadedofMara

Chapter Eleven: With Magic

* * *

Something was very, very wrong.

Severus Snape—Professor of Hogwarts, Head of Slytherin House, youngest Potions Master on record, Master Occlumens, Master Legilimens, Death Eater, Order of the Phoenix spy, and quite annoyed—had absolutely no idea what was going on. Certainly, he had informed all his Slytherins of the change in the usual term schedule like a good, tame little Potions Master, but he, like all the teachers, was still totally unaware of just whom they would be 'welcoming with open arms', as the Headmaster so boldly put it meet at the staff meeting. Although…

Severus cast a glance down the High table to the Gryffindor end. To judge by the way those three meddlesome Marauders were staring impatiently at the door, silent for once save the intermittent interjections of the Black mongrel, the professors of Dueling, Transfiguration and Defense at least knew something more than the rest of the school. The female Potter, Lupin and Black appeared to know nothing as they, like the rest of the professors, were staring curiously at the Headmaster, though they occasionally shot concerned glances at their strangely silent spouses. For once, though Severus was loath to admit it, the Marauders seemed to have something of the right idea. The students and the other teachers certainly weren't going to get much information by staring at the eye-shocking orange and blue of the Headmasters robes. Decisive in his course of action, Severus settled into an expressionless mask, his eyes on the tall oak doors at the far end of the hall, ears waiting for the Headmaster's words.

Severus barely had to wait at all. The school clock tower rang out six, and the Headmaster got to his feet, raising his arms to quiet the already soundless Hall. Though still staring at the door, Severus knew from past experience that Dumbledore was beaming maddeningly at his pupils.

"Welcome, Hogwarts, to this feast," said Dumbledore, his voice a strange combination of formal and childishly giddy. "I know that this is highly unusual, but please bear with me as I'm sure you will all be simply delighted. As I'm sure your teachers have informed you, we will have guests in Hogwarts this year. How long they will stay is undetermined as yet, but I am sure that you all will find every minute of their stay extraordinary, and will be very sad when they leave."

Mutterings broke out among the students. Dumbledore paused dramatically, and though his face remained impassive, Severus frowned deeply. Dumbledore was really presuming quite a bit in his introduction of these inexplicable outsiders. If Severus wasn't so curious as to whom Dumbledore would be willing to so vastly break routine for, he would have found 'every minute of their stay' quite ordinary, just out of spite.

"This year," Dumbledore continued now, stilling the hall. "Hogwarts will play host to four very important people. They arrived here quite unexpectedly last night, as I'm sure most of you noticed, and will be staying among us until they can find a way to return to their home. But for now, that is all quite unimportant." Dumbledore raised an arm toward the doors at the far end of the hall, and every head snapped to them. "It is my great and deepest honor to present…"

The doors swung open slowly to reveal a young woman standing in the very center of the door way, magic plunging around her like a storm-tossed sea. Her basic clothing was very simple; a bright canary-yellow dress. The left sleeve of the woman's dress was long and form fitting, tapering to a point above her middle finger and allowing wedding rings to show. The right sleeve went to the elbow and then fell in strips of yellow and black down to just past her hips, exposing strange black lines upon her hand and wrist. She wore a twisted rope belt about her waist, from which her wand and a long, wicked-looking obsidian blade hung. All this was covered by a black satin cloak, and the young woman's long red hair spilled down her back, a few chance strands braided with a black ribbon. At her side, a badger stood, fur brushed and silky, head adorned by a circlet of topaz and onyx.

"Milady Helga Hufflepuff!"

Severus actually heard a pin drop.

If he were not a Master Occlumens, Severus would have fallen out of his chair. More than a few of the younger year Hufflepuffs actually did. His mind was completely blank, Severus could do nothing but stare as the young Hufflepuff as she walked calmly up the aisle between her own table and that of Ravenclaw, her long black knife glinting evilly in the candlelight.

Everything about her, from her fierce chestnut eyes to her warrior's posture screamed that Lady Hufflepuff had clearly been misrepresented in the histories. Far from the kindly, plum and pleasing person typically depicted, the lithe, sprightly young girl who moved smoothly up the hall was anything but weak and talentless.

Severus felt a stream of warmth and comfort watching her, emotions that his Occlumency enabled him to realize were not his own. Severus raised an eyebrow at that. A practicing Empath was a rare thing to find, especially in someone who the Wizarding world thought they knew so well. But as Severus knew even in the bare seconds he had seen the young Hufflepuff, the Wizarding world knew absolutely nothing.

Lady Hufflepuff had, by this time, reached the end of the hall and she came to a stop before her long House table, stooping to gather her badger into her arms. The small group of sixth year boys that had sat at the teacher's end of the Hufflepuff table since their first year goggled at her. She smiled lightly, sending out a wash of friendliness, and gave them a little wave.

Dumbledore once again raised his arm to the doors at the back of the hall. "I give to you our next visitor!"

This time, only one door swung open, a regal woman of impressive stature stepping nobly through. Her hair, honey-toned and curled in ringlets, framed a face with warm brown eyes that shown with wisdom and compassion and sparkled with youth. She wore a long, flowing gown, starting with royal blue at the low, swooping neckline and fading all the way to white at the hem. The sleeves, slit to the shoulder but bound together by spaced links of bronze, were full and long, almost brushing the floor, lined in bronze silk. Obviously goblin wrought, hair-thin bronze, made into to a kind of material, formed a girdle about her waist. An icy blue cloak, strewn with threads of bronze and matching slippers completed the ensemble. This dignified woman wore a blue falconer's glove over her left hand, and, bound to the bronze bracelet around her wrist with a matching chain and anklet, a large white prey bird of some sort stood midway up her arm, golden eyes squinting at the students. Severus knew instinctively that this woman, whose magic coursed through the room like gale-force wind, could not possibly be any other than

"Lady Rowena Ravenclaw!"

The hall burst into curious mutterings as Ravenclaw swept majestically up the hall, her cloak flowing smoothly behind her, and Severus let out a small breath, clamping down his Occlumency shields. It wouldn't do to get his hopes up over something so obviously too good to be true, he warned himself sternly. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff could have been out on holiday and were sent to the future with to medieval bellhops from the local five star hotel for all he knew. Gryffindor might not even have come, which would be a blessing to be sure.

Severus shook himself from the train of thought, casting his gaze to the other teachers as a distraction. Pomona Sprout of Hufflepuff, completely ignoring Ravenclaw, had eyes only for the youthful Founder of her House, and Filius Flitwick was equally disregarding Hufflepuff, gazing almost rapturously at the young Ravenclaw. The teachers who were not Heads of any House were still in a state of shock, with the obvious exceptions of McGonagall and Dumbledore and the strange omissions of Black and Lupin. The Marauders, all of them, looked excited beyond words, though Potter still seemed a little suspicious.

Dumbledore cleared his throat as Ravenclaw came to a stop before her House table and shared a grin with Hufflepuff. "And now our next guest!"

For a third time, the doors swung open, this time for a man, and before he even stepped into the light, Severus knew instantly who this person was. There was something about the way he carried himself—not with the usual Gryffindor arrogance, but with something a little more subtle—and the way his magic blazed through the air like a wildfire that marked him as Godric. But then, the huge red and gold Griffin that preceded him was a bit of a giveaway as well.

When Gryffindor stepped into the light of the Great Hall, several things happened all at the same time. Severus flinched, squeezing his eyes shut against the veritable glow of Gryffindor's red and gold outfit; the table along the far right edge of the Hall burst into a chant of 'GOD-RIC! GRYFF-IN-DOR!'; and James Potter—oo, would Severus nail him for this later—fell out of his chair in full view of the school and landed with a splat.

Were it not for Legilimency and stoic Slytherin pride, Severus would have asphyxiated from laughter. As it was, he allowed a grin to creep onto his face as Potter crawled back up into his chair, red-faced, staring dumbstruck at Gryffindor.

Granted, the man was impressive, though certainly not worth falling out of a chair over, especially now that the shock of the _founders_ had passed. Once Severus adjusted to the blatant glare of Gryffindorishness, he too turned an observant eye on the man. Gryffindor was tall, easily more than six feet, with long auburn hair pulled away from his face, and a mustache that gave his slightly scarred visage a look of perpetual amusement, even when he wasn't smiling at all. From the moment the chanting of his name began, however, his face alit with a brilliant grin, his deep brown eyes sparkling in his glee. Gryffindor's cloak was red, of course, over eye-shocking gold robes that seemed ablaze with their own luminescence. Around his waist there was a thick belt of gold richer in color than his robes, and attached to this, visible through an obviously-goblin-wrought sheath—for no other smiths could achieve such finery—was the famous gold and ruby Sword of Gryffindor.

Severus' mind instantly jumped into overdrive. While the more rational side of his mind counseled himself to avoid getting his hopes up lest the Founders had been mysteriously transported forward _after_ the split, the rest of him was positively dying for Dumbledore to introduce the last visitor. The chance to meet, to speak with, to _work _with Salazar Slytherin—_the_ Salazar Slytherin—was far too fantastic to be real, and yet it simply _had_ to be.

Gryffindor, reaching the end of the hall, reached out and pulled Ravenclaw into a full passionate kiss. The Gryffindors, particularly Longbottom, Finnegan and Thomas, cheered even harder. When they broke away, Ravenclaw blushed a beautiful rose tone and Gryffindor winked roguishly at his students.

"As there is no need to introduce Lord Gryffindor," cried Dumbledore above the wild cheers of the overenthusiastic Lions. "I give you, last but certainly not least, Lady Hufflepuff's husband!"

The chanting and cheering cut off abruptly, and a few upper year Slytherins jumped to their feet in outrage. All around the hall, people were frowning, and muttering angrily under their breaths. While not very popular, Slytherin _was_ a founder and if his absence meant the loss of the full set, Hogwarts would protest. Severus wasn't paying attention. He fumed, raged, seethed, and boiled with fury. How could the Wizarding world's most impossible dream have come true and left Slytherin behind in the past? Goody-two-shoes Gryffindor, and his conniving cohorts Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw simply couldn't be allowed to influence the Wizarding world without Slytherin there to balance them out. It wasn't right! Severus glowered at the hall, and particularly the tall oak doors as if he could make Slytherin appear behind them.

Dumbledore, for some odd reason, was grinning.

The tall oaken doors banged open with a wave of magic that ruffled the hair of those sitting closest to the entry way, revealing a single figure completely silhouetted by the torchlight of the passage behind him. An aura with force such as Severus had never felt slammed into him, pushing him back into his seat. Severus stared. This man, Hufflepuff's husband, was the most powerful wizard Severus had ever seen, and yet not a single drop of his magic seeped into the air around him. All his strength was carefully concealed by Occlumency.

Severus reached out with Legilimency to brush by the man's shields, and instantly probed closer. Most people's natural shields were like tiny wooden garden spikes, just enough to keep thoughts from spilling out of their minds. Dumbledore's and Voldemort's minds were protected by a barbed wire fence surrounded by chimeras of Legilimency. Severus had heard his shield compared to a muggle high-voltage fence with Hungarian Horntails on the perimeter, ready to attack the shields of another at a moments notice. But this man's mind was Hogwarts, encircled by a thousand full grown Basilisks.

Voldemort suddenly looked like an open encyclopedia.

Severus hadn't recovered from the shock of the man's strength when he stepped into the light of the great hall and everything was blown from Severus' mind.

Hufflepuff's husband was short with longish black hair that brushed against his glimmering emerald eyes. The man was swathed from head to foot in deep forest green, his cloak glimmering with a thousand strands of silver twisting and turning on the fabric. A short silver sword gleamed sheathless on his hip, and a pure white snake lay lazily draped over his shoulders.

Slytherin. Severus had never been more sure of anything in his whole life.

Gasps swept the hall like a sudden breeze. The snake hung around Slytherin's shoulders hissed loudly through the silence, and Slytherin laughed, low and throaty. The sound echoed, and the hairs on the back of Severus' neck stood up.

"_Vail, Oo sshahsseex ssien kairgleek, Sshyssayen. Nahk vyss pahlk nahrssee drangahn kah ool pait zeerthh ssahssohxtei,"_ he said quietly, and Severus let out a low breath of amazement. When Voldemort spoke Parsletongue, it was all hisses and spits and wheezing. But Slytherin, the Serpent Lord himself, made the language of the snakes sound beautiful, like a song or a gust of wind. Severus had never heard Parsletongue spoken that way.

The snake hissed something vehemently, jerking its head away from Slytherin's as they glided down the hall, and causing more than a few Hufflepuffs to edge away in fear. Slytherin laughed again.

By this time, Slytherin had reached the end of the walk between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, and, stepping close to Hufflepuff, he bowed low over her hand, pressing a kiss to the wedding rings glimmering on her finger. Another zephyr of gasps and whispers blew through the hall.

The four newcomers and their familiars moved together in the center of the room.

"Witches and wizards," Dumbledore announced from behind them, arms raised. "Boys and girls. Allow me to give you the Founders of Hogwarts!"

And the crowd went wild.

* * *

There will be a "Q&A" for the Founders in an upcoming chappy. Drop a reveiw with any questions you would like to see the students of Hogwarts pose to their founders! Each House is allowed five questions directed to that Houses Founder, so be sure to tell me who the question is for!

Thanks!

~Jaded


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